


Radiant

by dandelena



Series: Avatar Azula [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avatar Azula, Gen, In Character, Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 09:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelena/pseuds/dandelena
Summary: The War is over. The world heals, the shadows gather. Zuko struggles with his father's legacy. Azula takes on the weight of power like she was born to it, because, well, she was. (Epilogue to As the Sun, an Avatar Azula AU.)





	Radiant

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_(radiant)_

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_Keep your distance. She's perfectly safe in eyeshot of that friend of hers, but from what I heard, one man in Lajiao had too many drinks... She didn't even turn around and he went up like a torch._

_It was over in a couple seconds. He was barely singed. But before she put him out, she just listened to him scream for a while._

_What else d'you expect from a spirit? You know what she did to her own father._

.

.

"The guards tell me you've been terribly busy," Azula says lightly, stepping into the cell.

Ozai spreads his empty hands. "Your brother's actions are none of my doing. If the new Fire Lord needs advice on running a country, who am I to deny my own son?"

One probable truth and one truthless question; Ozai's difficult to read even with seismic sense, but he doesn't need to know that.

"What did he ask?" Azula says, playing with a handful of water between her palms, the darting shapes suggesting blades. Ozai eyes her warily. "Not advice, I think."

.

.

"I never realized the Fire Nation had built so many colonies in the Earth Kingdom," Katara says, running a finger over the paper coast.

"They're a constant reminder of the war, like an old scar," Kuei says, frowning. A moment later he winces and glances to the Fire Lord. "I meant nothing personal!"

Zuko doesn't turn away from the map. That sort of joke never runs dry among the Court jackals. The art of sharpening words to a cruel edge, the lilt of a backhanded compliment—all things he's had to learn in the past years. He can finally read the words passing silently beneath Mai's face.

But this is bookish Earth King Kuei, as subtle as his pet bear, so Zuko chooses his words with deliberate force. "No, you're right. After all the pain my father has caused, it's my duty to bring healing to the world. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Removing the colonies will be disruptive," Azula says, a tone of warning in her voice. "They've belonged to the Fire Nation for generations."

"They belong to the Earth Kingdom!" snaps Kuei, but the color fades from his cheeks when Azula spears him with a judgmental glare.

"You really have no idea what's been going on outside your Palace," she says. "Colonial governors have controlled the coast for over a century. The inhabitants are Fire Nation citizens."

"Avatar Azula, King Kuei, neither of you know the colonies outside of books," Zuko says, in a voice of quiet authority. "I spent three years traveling them. Many are neither Earth Kingdom nor Fire Nation."

"Look, maybe we should go to these colonies and find out what the people living there want," Sokka says reasonably.

Kuei wavers. "After the defeat of Chin the Conqueror, the occupied territories were all returned to their rightful owners..."

"That was a long time ago," Katara says. "Maybe history from books isn't enough, Your Majesty."

 _Probably never opened a book in her life_ , Azula thinks, rolling her eyes, but the young Earth King seems willing to listen.

.

.

Something about Lin's gait is completely wrong, but it's not until she focuses hard on the vibrations—the weight too light for the amount of armor she's wearing, and the fluttering beat of muscle tensed to exhaustion—that Azula realizes Lin's metalbending herself.

"You should be in a wheelchair at least," she says in an undertone, once the conversation drifts away from their end of the room. "What happened to your crutches?" The Grand Secretariat shoots her a glare.

"I'm fine," Lin says stiffly. Her bad leg is encased in a steel column, admitting no flaw. "I'm running a metalbending intensive for the Dai Li. I don't have time to look weak."

Azula frowns, but recognizes the stubborn look in her eye and changes the subject.

.

.

"Since when do you hold tea parties so late at night?" Azula asks, dropping without warning from the sky. Zuko flinches so badly the pot falls to the stone and shatters, tea and porcelain flying everywhere.

"What are you doing here, Azula?" he snaps, trying not to seem guilty.

"Looking for you. I wonder why _you're_ looking for Ozai."

"I am not!"

She doesn't even need seismic sense to catch that one, so Azula looks at him, eyebrow raised, until he huffs, "None of your business."

Her temper rages in the blink of an eye. "Our mother," she seethes, "is absolutely my business, and if you'd asked I would have helped find her. There's an entire room of her things in the Palace—a shirshu could get her scent anywhere."

"You think I've haven't tried that? _Nothing's worked_. Ozai is the only one we can ask," Zuko snarls, sparks flashing from his hands. Sloppy control, as always—but there's something else, something about the way he latched so eagerly onto her distraction, and her mind cools immediately.

"That's not why you're here," Azula says, eyes turning sharp, dissecting. "... You really _are_ lost if you're going to him for help."

"I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"You don't need _him_ to tell you, either. You could ask Mai. Or Iroh. Or whoever else was helping you here."

Zuko shakes his head in frustration. "He was the Fire Lord; he's the only one who understands—"

"Ozai only understands how to rule with an iron fist. I don't think he'll be any help," Azula says shortly. "Besides, if you don't tell her, Mai's going to kill you." The humor of the thought sinks in and she giggles. "Or take away your bending. She really would."

The look on his face tells her she wasn't supposed to laugh.

.

.

Defying all logic, The Jasmine Dragon hosts a lively collection of expatriates and tea-lovers in the middle of the city where Iroh's hated most. In a fit of blinding hubris—or insanity—he hasn't even bothered to change his name.

Their heavily-scarred waiter was apparently hired in the middle of a back-alley assassination attempt. Iroh laughs as he tells the story, the waiter looks sheepish, and the others stare openmouthed. Azula and Zuko exchange an exasperated, knowing look.

 _That's what family should be like_ , she thinks, watching Uncle Iroh engulf Zuko in a bear hug. She brittlely endures Iroh's pat on the shoulder. _What I should be like._

As the afternoon rush winds down, Iroh pulls out a Pai Sho board and beckons to the opposite chair. "Come, show your uncle how much you've learned," he says, warmth and challenge in his voice.

Her answering smile is not entirely predatory.

.

.

The west wing of the Palace hovers like a dark cloud, guarded at all times by Imperial Firebenders. The noblewoman on the other side never stirs from her rooms, nor requests an audience with the new Fire Lord, who's all too happy to ignore her.

Mai handles the spies' reports, but they're as tedious as one might expect from house arrest. Zuko manages to forget that she exists, for a few months at least.

Without warning, the early morning quiet is pierced by the wail of a newborn baby.

The request for an audience follows scant hours later. The fire before the throne hides the Fire Lord's expression, but her eyes seem to mock him, even through the flames. "The Sages agree. He will be declared Crown Prince immediately."

Zuko looks at the red face of his half-brother and can say nothing but a stiff and insincere "Congratulations." He dismisses them almost immediately, trying not to look at the viper smile that seems to linger long after she is gone.

War Minister Toza says quietly, "You know what must be done."

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"You could find a discreet assassin or two."

"I'll execute the double agents in her retinue who were passing us false information. But the child ... I don't think you mean that."

"I... Fine, but that idealism is going to get us in trouble."

"All we can do is keep them under house arrest, limit them to the west wing, away from conspirators—"

"Won't help if she's determined. Triple your security. Mai's too. If he takes the throne now, she'll be Regent."

"Sometimes I hate our family."

"Oh, always."

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.

"Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Mai, it is an honor—please, sit," Mayor Morishita says, kowtowing as they take their places among the local metalwork and imported silk.

"Forgive Kori's enthusiasm," Lady Morishita says, giving her daughter a significant look. "She felt that a messenger hawk would not appropriately convey the _seriousness_ of our situation."

"Enthusiasm is one word for it," Mai says dryly, recalling the desperate way the earthbender fought her way into the audience chamber.

The teenager bows, her face faintly red. "My apologies... I thought that because the other colonies were being uprooted, you would need to be convinced to defend us."

"That's why I've come." Zuko lifts his teacup, but doesn't drink. "Tell me about these protesters."

Morishita begins, "They're far more dangerous than mere protesters. They call themselves 'Freedom Fighters,' and they're being led by a man named Jet..."

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Lin regards the Fire Lord before her with a hint of disdain. The bored girl beside him practically glitters in her earth sight; she decides not to tell her how easily a wrist-holstered dagger can be turned against its owner.

Not that King Kuei exactly inspires awe in all who behold him, but she is loyal, Earth Kingdom to the bones. Lin is unimpressed by the young Fire Lord who mouths platitudes but carves out Earth Kingdom land under some supposed "protectorate." Kuei's will or not, she's not helping arrest any freedom fighters. She can see herself in them, if she were younger and stupider. More like her mother.

In the distance, Lin senses something metal _moving, blurring—_ and turns towards the whine of arrows. With a sharp gesture, the steel arrowheads plunge into the dirt. Before she can shout a warning, though, the Fire Lord's guards are set upon by a wave of attacking _..._ children? Her men hesitate, torn between red armor and Earth Kingdom children.

"Restrain them!" she roars, dodging a blow from a heavy club, and the iron discipline of the Dai Li snaps into motion. _Protect them_ , she doesn't have to say. Children tumble to the ground as wrists and ankles lock together in metal cuffs, screaming but unhurt. Mai's needles catch arrows mid-flight before a Dai Li agent captures the archer.

The Fire Lord and the rebel leader are locked in battle, steel flashing, and she almost snaps, _That is a child; are you blind?_

But the ground tells her otherwise: the strain of Zuko's muscles holding back, awkwardly turning killing moves into disarming ones, even as the hook swords turn more and more vicious. Words out of earshot hum through the ground: _the families you've destroyed—Please, stop—Go on, burn me—_

Lin suddenly realizes that under the ragged clothes, Jet has covered himself in explosives.

From there she acts on instinct, hands tracing, twisting. The hook swords jerk out of Jet's grip, catching him by surprise, and in two more brutal movements, Jet vanishes in a cloud of dust. Zuko looks to her in surprise, then back to the patch of ground where his opponent had been.

 _Tap_.

With a small motion of her foot, Jet's head pokes up from the dirt and starts screaming obscenities _("You traitorous collaborator harlot!")._ Zuko sighs with impossible weariness, but Lin shuts her ears and stalks forward.

"Watch your mouth. Your mother would be ashamed," she snaps, stomping the ground with one heel. The earth yields him up, hands still encased in a column of stone, so that Lin can snarl at him face-to-face. "The war is over. Don't you dare start another one."

Jet spits in her face.

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"Look, Azula, I don't think I have to tell you how important this meeting is. Everyone's sent a delegation except Foggy Swamp and Si Wong. Don't say anything that could be construed as imperialistic. It's embarrassing."

"That was one time! It ended up well; now Kuei likes you more than me."

"He'd better, because I have to convince him to accept a sovereign nation stealing his coastline."

"With Fire Nation technology, the United Nations'll do a better job with sea trade than Kuei ever could. Have you ever _seen_ an Earth Kingdom barge?"

"That's exactly what _not_ to say."

"Fine, Zuzu. Anything to please His Majesty the Fire Lord."

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"Unless I'm very much mistaken, you don't belong here," Ozai says, amused, but he doesn't call for the guards, either.

"A thousand pardons, my lord," the servant says, prostrating himself before the cell as if it were a throne. "We wish only for you to acknowledge the legitimacy of your son. Many of the truly loyal will honor your words."

The disgraced ruler laughs shortly. "Zuko has already shown how little he cares for my blessing."

"Your _other_ son."

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Azula curls up lazily in the ornate chair, letting her legs dangle over the armrest. "Terrible replica, by the way," she says lightly. "Real thrones don't look quite so stupid."

The crime lord has only a moment to get over his shock before a flutter of movement behind him cuts off his bending. Ty Lee smiles unapologetically and locks the door.

Azula hops out of the tacky throne and grabs the man by the front of his shirt. "I hoped you might be a loyalist with a grudge, but seems like you're just a common thug trying to prey on my city. You call yourselves 'Agni Kais'? You pitiful excuse for a firebender, you wouldn't know an honorable duel if it punched you in the face."

Before he can squirm away, she seizes the back of his head and drives it into the floor, thrilling at the crunch of cartilage and the bright splatter of blood. Ignoring his howl of pain, she stands and says, "I challenge you to a _real_ Agni Kai. You'll at least have a minuscule chance of surviving. If you don't want to play, I'll make immediate arrangements for your funeral."

"I ain't scared of you," he snarls, the effect ruined by the stream of blood cascading down his front.

Azula looks delighted. "You should be."

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"The Northern Water Tribe envoy claims his nation has nothing to do with these raiders, but the Water Tribes have supported them in the past, directly and indirectly," the fleet commander says.

"Find me proof, Admiral, and I'll see to it."

"Very well. On another point—if I may speak freely, my lord?"

"Please," Zuko says.

"They're using the same tactics as the North on the Day of Black Sun. Our battleships and merchant vessels are completely vulnerable; we must start manufacturing redesigned ships," he says, words quick and professional.

"That's in direct violation of..."

"The disarmament treaty prevents the Navy from being able to protect our people, my lord. Peace is one thing. Letting criminals run amok is another."

He frowns, but doesn't dispute it. From behind the curtain of fire, the Fire Lord says, "Your words will be considered. You are dismissed, Admiral."

The door closes. A moment passes.

"Azula, you can't just eavesdrop on private audiences."

"Bad habit," she says, falling from the ceiling.

"It was you, wasn't it? _You_ taught the waterbenders how to destroy our ships," Zuko says accusingly, unable to keep his temper in check. "Maybe you forgot while you were planning how to defeat us, but the Fire Nation is made of _islands_. No sea trade means no trade, _period_."

Azula observes his growing fury with amusement. "Fine! It's my fault. Happy, Zuzu? I'll handle it. I'll just teach them a lesson they won't forget," she says, tossing her cloak back with a mockingly gallant air.

"Try not to give them any other national secrets while you're there," he snaps, still annoyed, but his little sister only laughs before slipping away.

"Don't worry, Zuko. _I'll_ save you from the pirates."

The Fire Lord groans and buries his head in his hands.

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The Avatar chases whims and rumors across the world, an uncontrollable force flickering from one interest to another. The sandbenders teach her to fight malicious desert spirits with incense and calligraphy; she speaks to the verdant, ancient heart of Foggy Swamp. She dances with Ran and Shao once more, and ignores Lin's lectures on vigilantism to chase down criminals evading the metalbender police.

The Fire Palace still welcomes her presence, but more and more often, she steps into other nations: appeasing scorched forest spirits in the western Earth Kingdom, dealing with warring airbender factions, or helping Katara carve the new Southern Water Tribe from the ice.

The unique colors of the nations resonate along the chain of her past, a strange and aching harmony. People are at once kin and enemy. Ultimately, as the lifetimes blur, they become nothing more or less than human.

In the eerie warmth of the Spirit Oasis, Tui and La do not acknowledge her as she sits beside them, as it should be. Azula watches their slow cycling for long minutes before silently getting up and leaving again.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Ty Lee asks, dancing lightly over icy railings.

"I don't know. Let's keep looking."

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End file.
